Web of the Serpent

The morning air in the Tang outer sect was heavy, not just with dew, but with silence an eerie, oppressive hush that stretched across the courtyards like a funeral shroud. The rumors of Tang Yun's killing spree had spread like wildfire, igniting both fear and awe.

No one dared approach his courtyard.

Except one.

A soft tapping came at the gate, barely audible but persistent. Tang Yun, seated beneath the old willow tree in his modest courtyard, opened his eyes. Steam rose from a shallow cup of bitter tea, swirling with soft green hues. His fingers, stained with the color of crushed nightshade, drummed lightly against the porcelain.

"Enter," he said without raising his voice.

The gate creaked open. A young girl stepped inside barefoot, no older than twelve, wearing tattered robes dyed in the faded red of the Tang outer disciples. Her eyes were hollow, the kind of emptiness born from too much suffering at too young an age.

"You called for me, Young Master?"

Tang Yun studied her. The child's name was Tang Xiaomei. A gutter rat, barely stronger than an average mortal, often overlooked even by the outer servants. But Tang Yun had seen her eyes watching the bodies of the dead, unflinching.

"You've cleaned blood before. You didn't scream."

She nodded.

"Can you brew poison?"

She hesitated, then slowly nodded again.

Tang Yun smiled faintly.

"Then you're hired."

She blinked. "For what?"

He poured a second cup of tea. "To serve the Poison King."

By midday, Tang Yun had set his plan in motion.

The outer elders were agitated. The deaths of the disciples had shaken their carefully maintained power structure. Behind closed doors, names were whispered, blame was shifted, and spies were dispatched. But no one dared accuse Tang Yun directly not without proof, and not with Tang Mo still watching silently from the shadows.

In the training yard, the usual drills had ceased. Instead, a strange, uncomfortable energy hung in the air. Many disciples trained with half-hearted movements, throwing anxious glances toward the north pavilion.

Tang Yun appeared among them like a ghost.

Not a single step announced his arrival, yet when the sect noticed his presence, silence followed like a reflex.

He stood before a patch of open ground, empty save for a single scarecrow wrapped in black cloth. It had been used for poison needle training before being discarded.

Tang Yun raised his hand.

A single thorn-shaped dart shot out from his sleeve its body dark, glistening with an oily sheen.

The scarecrow erupted into flames.

Screams followed. Even the elders nearby turned their heads.

A few recognized the attack.

Black Thorn Venom Dart.

A secret Tang Clan technique long considered too unstable and dangerous to be taught.

"That's... forbidden!" someone gasped.

Tang Yun turned slowly to face the voice.

"Then perhaps," he said, voice calm and clear, "the clan should not have abandoned it."

No one responded.

His demonstration was more than provocation it was a declaration. Tang Yun was no longer just a mysterious anomaly. He was a problem. A powerful, unafraid one.

Later that evening, a meeting of several outer elders convened under the pretense of discipline review.

Tang Liansu paced. "He must be removed. If we wait longer, even the inner disciples might take interest."

"He has the protection of Elder Tang Mo," another reminded.

Liansu scoffed. "Tang Mo is old. If it comes to confrontation, he won't risk his legacy on a crippled bastard child."

Silence followed.

Then came a knock at the door.

A servant entered, pale and trembling.

"An invitation... from Tang Yun. He requests the presence of any elder who wishes to challenge him in the forest grove at midnight."

"A challenge?" Liansu hissed.

The servant bowed, placing a sealed scroll on the table. It was marked in green wax, etched with the serpent of poison.

"He says... no need for secrecy. If anyone wishes to see a cripple bleed, they're welcome to try."

Midnight Grove Duel - North Forest

The forest was thick with mist, not natural, but conjured. Fragrant herbs clashed with the stench of rot. The air itself felt toxic.

Dozens had gathered.

Outer disciples. Servants. Even inner disciples, drawn by curiosity.

At the center stood Tang Yun, dressed in black with jade thorns coiled around his wrists. He looked serene.

From the crowd, Elder Tang Liansu stepped forward with five loyal disciples. Each was at the peak of Qi Awakening.

"I accept your challenge, Tang Yun. The clan must punish its murderers."

Tang Yun bowed slightly.

"As you wish."

He didn't draw a weapon.

Liansu sneered. "Do you think bare hands will suffice?"

Tang Yun smiled faintly.

"No. But I have already prepared the battleground."

With that, he stamped the ground lightly.

A wave of green light pulsed from beneath their feet.

Poison Formation: Web of the Plague Root.

The ground cracked. Poisonous spores burst into the air. Liansu's disciples stumbled as their meridians convulsed, qi disrupted.

Tang Yun moved like water. One step, a dart. Another, a palm. Within seconds, two fell.

Liansu roared, stepping in himself. His palm clashed with Tang Yun's strike but the elder recoiled, eyes wide.

Demonic Venom Qi.

It corroded his spiritual defenses.

"What... what are you?!"

Tang Yun tilted his head. "I told you. I'm no longer a pawn."

He struck once more.

Liansu fell to one knee, coughing blood. The poison attacked his lungs, his heart, his mind.

Tang Yun placed a foot on his back.

"Tell them," he said softly. "Tell them what happens when you mock the forgotten."

The forest fell silent.

Even the inner disciples were speechless.

Tang Yun didn't kill him.

He didn't need to.

He walked away slowly, Tang Xiaomei falling into step behind him.

A legend had been born.

A cripple no more.

A threat?

No.

A king in the making.

[Tags]: Reincarnation, Martial Arts, Poison, Scheming Protagonist, Cultivation, Weak to Strong, Anti-Hero, Cold Protagonist, Clan Wars, Hidden Identity, Revenge pig